


Three Kinds of Love

by mzyz



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Minor Injuries, Multi, Post-Canon, Sickfic, basically they baby tsukki, overuse of parenthesis oops, who wouldnt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22456177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mzyz/pseuds/mzyz
Summary: in which tsukishima's older boyfriends adore him and always look after himor, alternatively, three times keiji, kou and tetsurou baby their kei
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 4
Kudos: 689





	Three Kinds of Love

**Author's Note:**

> i love bokuakakurotsuki n tsukki pls read this bc i wrote this instead of studying and almost failed biology

Keiji wasn’t supposed to be home already but his professor ended class early, ( _thank god,_ Keiji thought because Econ bored him half-dead), due to some uninteresting event that Keiji hadn’t bothered to stay long enough in the lecture hall to hear. He stopped by the store to buy groceries for dinner (which was _supposed_ to be Koutarou and Tetsurou’s job but leave it to them to forget) and a snack for himself.

When he got to the front door of their shared apartment, he realized that it wasn’t locked. _That’s odd_ , was the first thought that passed through his mind. Then _, did Kou forget to lock it again? Really, he’s so scatterbrained sometimes_.

Pushing the handle open, he was greeted with the unexpected sight of his youngest boyfriend. Kei’s headphones were on and the music must have been rather loud because the blonde didn’t even look up when Keiji stepped into the apartment. He was sitting at the dining room table, lanky arms folded on the surface and head tucked in between the crook of his elbows. His bronze-tinted eyes fluttered, casting towards the window.

Keiji was an intuitive person by nature as well as a quick learner. Those were the skills that allowed him to survive two years of high school with Koutarou. He was good at assessing people, his boyfriends _especially_. He knew their little ticks and quirks, what made them happy and sad. And, looking at Kei, he knew definitively that something was wrong.

Placing the grocery bags in the front entrance, he kicked off his shoes and headed towards the table. He placed a hand on Kei’s shoulders and felt the younger jolt underneath his touch. When it registered that it was just Keiji, the smallest of smiles tugged upwards at Kei’s lips and he pulled his headphones off his ears.

“Don’t listen to music so loudly,” Keiji chastised, with no bite behind his words, “it’s not good for your ears.”

Kei ignored him, “Why’re you home so early?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I asked you first,” the snarky response wasn’t the usual tone, instead it was sort of resigned. No, _tired_.

“Fine,” Keiji sighed, sitting down in the chair next to him. “My professor had something to do so class ended early.”

“Econ?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sure you were thrilled then.”

Keiji let out a breathy chuckle and nodded, emphatically. Gingerly, he reached a hand out to touch Tsukishima’s hair, towards the back and above his ear. It was soft, wisps of blonde. Keiji reveled in these quiet moments. Yes, he loved Kou and Tetsu immensely, but they were loud and boisterous (separately, yes, but _together_? Those two were a menace).

Now it was still, just the two of them and the hum of silence, resounding about. He wasn’t able to enjoy it, though, not fully. He was worried. It was so obvious something was troubling Kei. Kei was awfully good at hiding his emotions so for something to be so bothersome that he was _moping…_ Keiji had to know.

“Your turn to answer,” he nudged Kei. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

The term ‘work’ was used very lightly. Kei had a verbal commitment to a job at the local museum (they knew the owner, a very nice lady who’d taken a liking to the boys (particularly Kei)) but that wouldn’t begin until halfway through his senior year of college. He was almost done with sophomore year, though, and was helping at an office for extra cash to tie him over until then.

He was miserable and though he’s voiced time and time again his annoyance with the workplace, his boyfriends could tell even if he hadn’t been complaining (incessantly and constantly). He looked run down all the time, dark bruises gathering under his eyes, getting worse by the week.

“I didn’t go,” Kei stated, simply, refusing to look Keiji in the eye, adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

 _He’s so defiant_ , Keiji thinks _, even when he doesn’t have to be_. He’s well aware that’s just how Kei is and he knows Kei’s grown so much. The Kei he met in training camp during his second year was only a shell of the one sitting beside him. In those years between then and now, Kei’s evolved to something beyond _any_ of their imaginations. He’s opened up, allowed the three of them to _love_ him and, more, allowed himself to love them back.

Still, though, he’s just a naturally closed off person. Afraid of showing his fears.

Keiji’s a damn determined person when he wants to be, though, and right now, he really wanted to be.

“Oh?” Keiji’s lifted his eyebrows. “And why’s that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kei waved a hand. He must have thought he was being really convincing in his nonchalant tone but Keiji was no fool. Not when it came to his boyfriends.

“You must not know me if you think I’m just going to let you sulk without talking about it.” There was a fine line between getting Kei to open up and making him upset and balk up even further but Keiji was an expert, honing his skills everyday.

Kei rolled his eyes, normally a sign of malice but the almost-grin on his lips told a different story. “Alright. Just cuz the two dumbasses aren’t around.”

Keiji smiled as Kei breathed in, softly, eyes closing for a second or two.

“I think I’m going to quit my job.”

There it was. What Kei’s been keeping in; what’s been bothering him. Keiji nodded but didn’t reply, it was best to just let him vent.

“I hate it there,” Kei rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “It’s so awful. I hate the work, I hate the bosses. It’s not even the kind of work I want to pursue in the future so what’s the point, then?”

“Is that what’s bothering you about it?”

“No…I just…I don’t want to quit so easily. I used to be able to quit things like it was nothing so I just don’t understand why I feel so odd about it. I don’t…” Kei took a sharp inhale, “I don’t like the idea of…letting you guys down.”

“Well,” Keiji said, voice as definitive and assertive as he could make it, just to get the point across to the younger. “that’s the one thing you don’t have to be worried about. You could never let us down.”

Kei’s eyes widened, just slightly, and he turned to look over at Keiji. Keiji stared back with a comforting gaze. “You could never let us down,” he repeated. “Kou and Tetsu and I…we only want the best for you. We can all tell how miserable you are, recently. You don’t seem like yourself. We don’t want that for you, we want you to enjoy yourself and we could never fault you for wanting to quit, especially if it’s not something that makes you happy.”

“That was incredibly cheesy,” Kei replied but his voice was sort of a raspy whisper.

“Guess I learned from Tetsurou,” Keiji shrugged, fondness and affection welling in his chest.

Kei didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned his neck over, tilting his head just slightly, and pressed his lips to Keiji’s. His lips were soft and parted against Keiji’s; they were warm. Keiji let his eyes flutter closed, kissing back and reaching out a hand to cup Kei’s jaw in a tender hold.

When they broke apart, breathlessly, Kei mumbled, “I’ll send in my two weeks notice tonight.”

“Maybe there’s something you could apply for in Tetsurou’s lab.” Tetsurou was working, part time, for a research lab (a miracle he could balance that with the college volleyball team _and_ his final year courses but that was Tetsurou for you).

Kei made a face, scrunching up his nose. “He’ll just bother me all day,” said the blonde but Keiji could tell he was going to ask when Tetsu got home.

“Maybe so,” Keiji snorted. “Better than hanging around the gym with Koutarou all day.”

There was a moment of silence, Keiji peppering a couple kisses onto Kei’s cheeks, lacing their fingers together.

“I have to put the groceries away.”

“I thought that was Koutarou’s job this week.”

Keiji rolled his eyes. “It was.”

He stood up with their hands still intertwined. He pulled them upwards, pressing the softest of kisses onto Kei’s knuckles.

“Keiji?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

It was impossible for Keiji to hold back a smile. There was something he felt towards Kei that was different than towards Tetsurou and Koutarou. Yeah, Koutarou was far more inept but Kei was younger. Even so, he couldn’t tell if it was age or something else ( _maybe_ , he pondered in his head, _it’s because he shows vulnerability so rarely, it’s all the more jarring?_ ) but there was a voice inside him that yelled out ‘ _protect!’_

Those three words from Kei’s lips and warmth spread from his chest to his stomach and all throughout Keiji’s body.

“I love you too, Kei.”

* * *

“Shit,” Kei cursed, clutching onto Koutarou’s bicep so tightly that the older was slightly afraid they’d both go down.

“Be careful,” Koutarou chimed as they ascended the stairs up to their apartment.

“Isn’t that what I’m trying to be?” the younger spat out. He was balancing on his right leg, left one too swollen and painful to stand on. It had happened in a split second and it was so embarrassing Kei could _die_.

Before they left class (despite being two years apart, they were taking the same Intro to Chemistry course or, rather, Kei was taking it and Koutarou was retaking it to make up for the failing, sophomore year), Koutarou had _sworn_ that he checked the transportation app and the bus would be there in ten minutes. So Kei, stupidly, believed him and stood behind Koutarou while he chatted with some members of his volleyball team, scrolling on his phone, absentmindedly.

It was a good thing he double-checked the app, wondering how much closer the bus was, because, to his shock and horror, it read two minutes in big, red font.

“ _Koutarou_ ,” Kei had grabbed his boyfriend’s forearm as the elder gesticulated enthusiastically to his teammates about something or another. Kei’s voice came out in an accusatory and stranged half-hiss, half-scream. “The bus is coming in two minutes!”

“Oh shit,” Koutarou replied, eyes big. It was always such a pain in the ass to miss the bus because it only arrived once every 45 minutes. Missing this one meant Kei would be subjected to almost an hour of time that could be much better spent in the comfort of their own home.

Taking off in a sprint, Koutarou waved and shouted out a fast goodbye as Kei pulled him along.

Koutarou was the more athletic one between the two of them and he’d always _be_ the more athletic one, that was just a given. It wasn’t that Kei didn’t appreciate his spiker-toned body (because, god, he did) but, as they ran, it left Kei, floundering after his boyfriend, down three long flights of stairs in a panic. Not a good situation by any means, in any measures.

“C’mon Tsukki,” Koutarou called out, almost half a flight ahead of the panting blonde (running had never been Kei’s strong suit (the endless penalty sprints during training camps, forever ago, were nothing short of _hell_ ) and, now, even less so because he wasn’t playing volleyball regularly).

“I’m coming,” Kei panted, in urgency, muttered half-curses under his breath.

And that’s when it happened. Right on the second to last flight of stairs, feet thundering in a hurry with their heavy footsteps echoing and reverberating through the hollow, empty stairwell. Kei was so sure he was watching his footing but in his tunnel vision of _catch the bus, catch the bus_ , he missed a step and went tumbling.

Hearing the sound, Koutarou immediately halted to a stop. Terror flashed through his mind and he spun around, swiftly, on the ball of his heel. 

“Kei?!” He all but _dashed_ up to where Kei was at a record pace.

“Ow,” Kei winced, back pressed against the wall, adjacent to the steps. One hand held the back of his head, gingerly, and the other on his knee. “Ow. _Fuck_.”

Koutarou peered at him, mouth open wide and golden, owlish eyes filled with fear and concern. “Holy shit babe,” he crouched down, bus long forgotten, and pressed a strong, calloused hand to Kei’s cheek. Kei, unconciously, leaned into the touch, gritting his teeth together. “Are you okay? What hurts?”

“My fucking leg,” Kei muttered, tightly squeezing his eyes shut. It wasn’t like he’s never been injured before, competitive high school volleyball heeding a plethora of bruises, sprains and injured fingers but the shock of it all and the hard impact had Kei hissing in pain.

“Fuck,” Koutarou muttered in between clenched teeth. _What would Keiji do?_ his mind raced, _what would Tetsurou do?_

Then, tentatively, he asked, “What about your head? You’re holding it…”

“It’s fine, it’s just my _knee_ ,” Kei replied, still leaning into Kou’s palm. Kei’s arm snaked up, intertwining his fingers with Koutarou’s and holding it firm on his face. A silent _don’t go. Don’t stop touching me_. He didn’t need to say it for Koutarou to understand. Koutarou may not always be very quick on the uptake but he wasn’t stupid. Not when it came to Kei, at least. So he pressed their encased hands further into Kei’s cheek, unwavering. 

“Don’t worry,” Koutarou told him, mostly to Kei but also to himself, just a little. “It’ll be okay.”

“Though I appreciate the reassurance,” Kei breathed out, in between grimaces, “it would be better if you helped me up.”

Chewing on his lip, nervously, Koutarou questioned, “Are you sure I should?”

“I want to go home,” Kei insisted, almost petulantly, lower lip sticking out _ever so_ slightly. Koutarou’s eyes widened upon hearing this, a quick heat spreading across his cheeks and down the nape of his neck.

There Kei was, one leg sprawled out in front of him and the other tucked behind his hips, practically _pouting_ with his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. If it weren’t for the pain and the severity of the situation, he looked like something straight out of a shoujo manga. _God_ , Koutarou’s thoughts told him, _I love him_.

“ _What?_ ” Kei snapped, vemon in his voice, pushing his glasses up, in a fluid flick of the wrist.

Undeterred, Koutarou said, “Holy shit, Kei, you’re so cute.”

Glowering, Kei responded, “it’s really, _really_ not the time for that, Koutarou.”

“Sorry, sorry,” the elder said, rubbing the back of his neck, sheepishly. “Let’s get you up.”

Looping one arm around Koutarou’s neck and leaning all his weight onto the bulkier boy, Koutarou grabbed him in one swooping motion. With Koutarou’s forearm underneath Kei’s dangling legs, Kou’s already finely toned bicep was budging in a flex.

Awfully proud of himself, Koutarou commented, “Hey, hey Tsukki…I’m your knight in shining armor.”

“No,” Kei protested, angrily (but the way he tucked his face into the crook of Koutarou’s neck betrayed the scowl painted across his features), “you’re the dense fucking idiot that made me trip in the first place.”

Ignoring him, Koutarou beamed, “I guess that makes you my princess.”

“Shut up,” Kei weakly replied as the two descended the stairs, slowly.

Once they got outside, Koutarou carefully set Kei down, gripping the blonde tightly to stabilize him as best he could. Back on his feet (or, rather, foot), Kei wrapped an arm around Koutarou’s waist.

“I’m gonna get Keiji to call a cab for us, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Do you want to go to the hospital? Is the pain really bad?” Koutarou asked, a scared feeling starting to creep back up in his throat. _What if he’s really hurt?_ was the biggest fear, circling Kou’s mind, sickeningly.

“No,” Kei shook his head, lightly. “I’ll ice it when we get back. I could probably use Tetsurou’s knee brace from when he hurt it last year.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t worry.”

 _Dumb_ , Koutarou thought as he dialed Keiji’s phone number, _that he’s the one consoling me_.

Kei hobbled into the living room, once they’d finally ( _finally_ ) arrived back at their apartment. Koutarou released the younger onto the couch, grabbing a large pillow and placing it underneath the crook of Kei’s knee to elevate it.

Then, he hurried off into the kitchen.

“Where’re you going?” Kei called after him.

“Ice,” Koutarou replied, simply.

When he returned, he sat on the edge of the couch cushion and pressed the cat-shaped ice pack (an old gag gift from Nekoma to Kuroo when he broke his wrist sometime in high school. _We really should throw that out and get a better_ one, Kei thought, absentmindedly) onto Kei’s injured knee. At contact, a shiver was sent rolling down Kei’s spine.

“Cold,” he mumbled, the word slipping out of his parted lips, softly and involuntarily.

“I know, babe,” Koutarou murmured, brows knitted together sympathetically. Then he got up again. “Hold it in place, okay?”

Not enough energy for a snarky response (though “no, I’ll just let it fall” was on the tip of his tongue), Kei just did as told. He was suddenly exhausted. Through half-lidded eyes, Kei tracked as Koutarou bustled around the kitchen, opening up the fridge and multiple cabinets, seemingly in search of something. His broad shoulders blocked anything else from view, though, so Kei just tilted his head back, resting it on the cushion behind him and stared at the ceiling fan, whirling about.

“Here!”

His boyfriend’s enthusiastic tone had Kei’s neck snapping back up to look at him. With an outstretched hand, Kou held out a mug, Kei’s _favorite_ mug with a green dinosaur pattern. Taking it, Kei peered inside. _Strawberry milk_.

“Milk? In a mug?”

“Well,” Koutarou explained, almost sheepishly, “it’s your favorite drink in your favorite cup. I just thought that it would—“

“Thank you,” Kei cut him off, a tired smile spreading across his lips. If there was one thing Kei could never do it was be immune to Koutarou’s charms. In all his sweetness and glory, he could make Kei _melt_ (though the blonde would never, _never_ admit it).

Sitting back down, he took the ice pack from Kei to free up his hands and held it to his swollen, red knee.

For a while, in long minutes, they were both quiet and Kei could tell Koutarou was thinking— worrying— about something. Something intense. He was about to ask what when Koutarou’s voice cut through the silence.

“You know I didn’t mean it, right?”

“Huh?”

“To get you hurt. I didn’t mean it.”

“Kou, don’t be stupid,” Kei replied, a sort of shock dripping out of his voice. _Was that really was he was worried about?_ “Of course I know you didn’t mean it. It wasn't really your fault, anyway.”

“Yeah but,” Koutarou looked away, still clutching onto the ice pack. “I feel sort of guilty, I guess. I didn’t like seeing you hurt. It made me really,” a sigh. “… _really_ scared.”

“Koutarou. Look at me,” Kei commanded. Leaning over the mug, settled in both his palms, Kei locked their lips together. Koutarou’s eyes shot open, clearly taken off guard by the sudden kiss, then closing them to kiss back, eagerly. He cradled the base of Kei’s neck in his palm, pulling him closer. They kissed for awhile, open-mouthed and soft lipped, before Kei pulled away. “I know you’d never intentionally hurt me, any of us, so don’t think too hard about it. Your brain isn’t used to stuff like that, you’ll get a fever.”

“Hey!” Koutarou protested. Then, tone dropping, “Okay. But…Kei?”

“Mm?”

“I love you, like, _a lot_.”

Smiling and letting out a huff of breath, all Kei could do was say “I love you too.”

* * *

Tetsurou hummed to himself, relishing the quiet apartment. Koutarou left, early in the morning, for a practice game a few hours away, and Keiji was at a lecture (not without a quicky in the living room before he left, though).

In a house of four very tall boys, it was hard to find a moment of peace (though who was Tetsurou to speak, really, most of the noise came from him and Koutarou messing around, anyway). Not that he’d have it any other way, because he wouldn’t ( _god_ , he wouldn’t; there wasn’t anything he’d trade the life he built with the three people he loves most for) but silence was such a rarity that just eating cereal and watching a dumb YouTube video was like bliss.

It was a Tuesday and that meant his two classes were at night, 7ish, and only had to show up to work around 1pm. It was 9:30 now and the world was Tetsurou’s oyster.

The only odd thing, though, was Kei. The lanky blonde hadn’t been up yet and it wasn’t like him to sleep in so late, especially on a day he had classes. Chewing, thoughtfully, Tetsurou deduced it would be best to just let him rest.

The hours ticked by and Tetsurou remained wonderfully unproductive, lounging on the couch. He even opened a window, letting the cool almost-spring air into the apartment. Alas, though, all good things come to an end and by 12:30, Tetsurou dragged himself off the sofa with a strangled groan.

He started to put things in his backpack, tallying off his mental checklist. _Laptop, notebook, wallet, keys—_

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of shuffling footsteps and the bedroom door being pushed open. Kei walked out, wrapped oh-so-adorably in the duvet from the bed. He leaned against the doorframe for support and Tetsurou would have passed out from the sheer affection that bubbled up from his chest if it weren’t for the crabby frown darkening Kei’s face.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” Tetsurou teased, always liking to poke the bear, from where he stood at the dining table, shoving things haphazardly into his bag. He flashed Kei his infamous cheshire-cat smile, full of teeth. “Getting caught up on your beauty rest?”

Something was off, though, and Tetsurou knew immediately when Kei didn’t reply with something sarcastic in a frigid tone. Rather, the youngest of his boyfriends just stared off, eyes glazed over and uninterested. He scrunched his nose and it dawned on Tetsurou that he wasn’t frowning from displeasure but pain instead. Kei always scrunched up his nose when he had a headache.

“Babe? You okay?” Tetsurou abandoned his backpack in favor of hurrying over to where Kei stood (or, really, slouched up again) in the doorway. “Got a headache?”

“Mm,” Kei hummed, blearily, in agreement. Kei’s words lacking any eloquence in favor of grunts and half-syllables settled it for Tetsurou. There was only one possible conclusion: Kei was sick.

Up close, Tetsurou noticed how glassy Kei’s eyes were. They lacked their usual sharpness. Their usual analytical nature— always watching, always thinking. Now, though, they were unfocused. The blonde shivered as a breeze drifted through the window Tetsurou opened. 

Raising an arm, Tetsurou pressed the back of his hand to Kei’s forehead. It was dewy and hot, damp with the sweat that left his blonde hair messy.

“Hey, you’re really warm, Kei. You’ve got a fever.”

“Yeah,” Kei agreed, voice hoarse and gravelly. Just hearing him speak almost made Tetsurou wince. 

“You should stay home,” Tetsurou told him, less of a suggestion and more of a command (he used his captain voice, something he loved to do now that he wasn’t able to use it everyday). “I’ll text Keiji to pick up more meds. I think we have some left from when Kou had the flu.”

“Where's Kou?” Kei asked, blinking and looking around the room, slowly.

“He’s at an away game, remember?” Tetsurou asked as he began to shrug off his jacket and pull his laptop out of his bag.

“What’re you doing?”

“Undressing.”

“And why’s that?”

“I’m staying home with you.”

The surprised look that overtook Kei’s pale face sent a flurry in Tetsurou’s stomach. Even through years of dating, something about Kei always made Tetsurou giddy. Perhaps it was the facade the blonde put up that made the moments underneath the mask so wonderful. _I love him_ , was the only thought running through Tetsu’s mind.

“You don’t have to,” Kei told him, still clutching onto the doorframe. _He must be dizzy_.

“I want to.”

“You _shouldn’t_ ,” Kei corrected himself, giving Tetsurou a pointed look. _At least he’s well enough to glare_ , Tetsurou thought. “I’m not a kid, I’ll be fine on my own. You shouldn’t skip work just for me.”

“But Keiiii,” Tetsurou whined, drawn-out and petulant. “I wanna take care of you, you’re so cute when you’re sick so how can I be expected to miss out on having you all by myself?”

“You’re so—“

“Well,” Tetsu cut him off, tone dropping to one more sheepish (the patented ‘cheesy Tetsurou’ voice as his boyfriends dubbed it). “I’d feel better, at least, if I could stay home and be with you. Y’know to make sure you’re okay. You don't get sick that often.”

Blinking twice, Kei shrugged, resigned. “Cheesy Tetsurou,” he shook his head. “Fine, do what you want. If you get fired that's not on me.”

Tetsurou’s eyes tracked the still blanket-clad Kei as he stumbled, disoriented, over to the couch. As he sat, he pulled one of the cushions to his chest and Tetsu’s heart pinched in his ribcage.

“Hungry?” Tetsurou asked as he pulled off his navy jeans and tugs the ratty old Nekoma sweatpants he left lying on the living room floor back on. “We’ve got some instant miso soup if you want.”

Kei shook his head, eyes squeezed closed.

Tetsurou frowned. “You should eat, though. It’s not good to take meds on an empty stomach.”

“I do it all the time,” Kei objected. “Just gimme the pain killers, I’ll eat later.”

“Fine but I’m holding you to that,” Tetsurou replied, walking into the bathroom to grab the small pill bottle.

He handed it and a glass of water to Kei, who thanked him in a small, raspy voice. Tetsurou just pressed a light kiss to Kei’s overheated cheek (though he only got a grumble in response).

Tetsurou prided himself in the knowledge he so meticulously gathered about his boyfriends. Through years of trial and error, he could definitively say he knew how to make them feel good (physically _and_ mentally, though Keiji had him beat in the mental category). He knew what kind of candy Koutarou liked best for certain situations (sour candy for days when he loses a game, chocolate for special occasions). He knew the best massage spots on days when Keiji was overworking himself (shoulders and lower back). And, most applicable in the current situation, what movies made Kei feel better.

Wordlessly, he sat down next to Kei and turned on Jurassic Park. Kei, who was drifting in and out of sleep, perked up when he heard the opening symphony (or as perky as he could be with a fever). The blonde glanced at the TV then up at Tetsurou with the smallest hint of an affectionate grin that he was unable to contain crossing his lips.

Tetsurou felt Kei’s head come down to rest on the elder’s shoulder. He was radiating fever heat, leaving Tetsu with a warm feeling that spread through both their bodies. Proximity was always something Tetsurou valued and, right now, he couldn’t be happier.

 _Yeah_ , he thought, wrapping an arm around Kei and running his hand up and down Kei’s goosebump-prickled arms, comfortingly _, being alone is nice but this is the best_.

For the rest of the day, Kei was mostly just a drowsy, snotty mess. He really did try his best to stay up for the whole movie and Tetsurou had to commend him for that but, ultimately, the attempt was fruitless.

He did stick to his promise, though, and ate something around 3pm before retreating back into the bedroom for another nap.

Keiji texted him, not too long after, promising to bring home takeout for dinner and asking how Kei was doing.

Tetsurou responded requesting grilled mackerel and saying he was sleeping off the illness, respectively, humming as he typed.

It was quiet in the apartment again but, unlike the way it had been in the morning, it felt a little lonely. Like something was missing, something was wrong. Shrugging it off, Tetsurou did work to distract him.

It worked, apparently, because before he knew it, he heard the sound of keys, jiggling in the front door lock. Looking down at the watch on his wrist, he realized it was already almost 6:30. Kei’d been sleeping for quite sometime.

Keiji tiptoed in, clearly vigilant of making as little noise as possible. When he felt the golden, catlike eyes of Tetsurou following him, from the dining table, a tired, ragged smile passed through his lips.

Tetsurou heaved a muffled sort of groan as he got up, stretching out his back muscles, before walking over to the entrance to grab the bags of still-warm take out.

“Hi,” Keiji murmured, leaning in, expectantly. Tetsurou was never one to leave his boyfriend’s hanging, fervently interlocking their lips in a hello-i-missed-you-today kiss. Those were his favorite type of kisses to give his boyfriends. That, and, congratulation kisses and happy-birthday ones. 

“Hey,” he said back, in between Keiji’s lips, words causing a light vibration that sent a shiver down his spine. Keiji’s kisses were special; sweet-tasting and perfect. The former setter always knew just the right amount of tongue to use (something Tetsurou was eternally grateful to have in his life). Tetsurou was practically a turning into a puddle, right then and there.

“How is he?” Keiji asked once they broke apart.

“Still feverish. He’s not throwing up or anything, it’s probably just a day or so thing,” Tetsurou filled Keiji in, leaning on the kitchen counter and the younger of the two unpacked the bags of food. They smelled so good, Tetsurou felt his stomach rumbling and he realized he'd barely eaten all day. 

“Go wake him up,” Keiji told Tetsurou, motioning towards the closed bedroom door. “I got him some rice porridge for dinner.”

“Did you—“

“Yes, I got you your mackerel,” Keiji replied with a fake-exasperated sigh.

“Alright, alright,” Tetsurou waved him off as left the kitchen.

The bedroom was dark, curtains blacking out everything except a few stray rays of end-of-evening light. Tetsurou chuckled, under his breath, at Kei on the bed. Or, more accurately, the Kei-shaped lump buried underneath the mountains of blankets they owned (a necessity when sleeping with Akaashi “blanket thief” Keiji and Bokuto “can’t sleep in one position to save his life” Koutarou).

Sliding onto the bed, the added weight of Tetsurou caused the mattress to shift. At this, the lump beginning to stir.

A low groan escaped Kei’s chapped lips as he started to sit up.

“Kei, baby…” Tetsurou sing-songed, poking a finger into the side of Kei’s face. _Still warm_ , Tetsurou noted.

“Mmm?”

“Keiji’s home with food,” Tetsurou couldn’t keep in the sugary affection that coated his voice when he watched Kei. Tetsurou loved every version of Kei there was but he especially loved Kei right after the blonde awoke. Sleepy Kei was something other-worldly; he wore a halo of innocence that regular Kei never did.

“Oh.” Kei ran a hand across his face, still out of sorts and half-asleep.

Tetsurou reached towards Kei, brushing out a few strands of damp, blonde curls that stuck to Kei’s forehead.

“Hey,” Kei murmured, weaving his slender fingers into Tetsurou’s. Tetsurou gave his hand a squeeze. “Thanks for staying home with me.”

“Even if it was totally unnecessary?” Tetsurou asked in a teasing lilt. _He’s definitely going to be the death of me, one day_.

“Even if it was totally unnecessary.”

“You know I’ll always do that for you, Tsukki,” Tetsurou said with such fondness and adoration that a blush passed through Kei’s cheeks that definitely wasn’t from the fever. The few rays of light that filtered in through the curtains danced on the walls, catching Tetsurou’s eye in a glint. “Anything for my moonshine.”

“ _Cheesy_ ,” Kei shook his head. Then, “I love you.”

Tetsurou’s eyes widened. Even though he knew Kei loved him (he felt it everyday, the love of his boyfriends), it wasn’t like the blonde to declare it so unabashedly. Perhaps it was the illness messing with his ability to sort through his thoughts, shoving the embarrassing ones (the ones he wouldn’t typically say in health), towards his lips. At any capacity, Tetsurou loved it, the words encasing him in unadulterated joy.

“I love you too, Kei. So much.” Tetsurou closed his eyes and cupped Kei’s jaw, pulling his face close. Instead of gentle lips on his own, to Tetsu’s surprise, he felt Kei’s palm on his mouth. Pulling away, eye flying open, flashing a hurt expression, for a moment. He opened his mouth to say something but Kei beat him to it.

“If you kiss me you’ll get sick, dumbass,” Kei muttered, looking away.

“Aw, c’mon Kei,” Tetsurou wrapped his own fingers around the ones on his lips. “I don’t care about that.” (He _did_ end up getting sick and, hypocritically, cared very much)

“Well, you should.”

“But I don’t," Tetsurou argued. "One kiss?”

“No,” but the words were empty because Kei’s lips followed them, always going along with Tetsurou’s whims in the end. Tetsurou smiled into the kiss, positioning his mouth in the way he knew Kei liked best. A quick swipe of the tongue followed by a long, delicate, one so that Kei could inhale and feel the warming love Tetsurou was providing him. After he pulled away, Tetsurou knocked their foreheads together, gently. Being there, with Kei…that's what was bliss was.

“Hey,” Keiji called, pulling them back down to Earth. “Dinner’s ready. Come eat before it gets cold…Koutarou called, he’s almost home.”

“C’mon Kei,” Tetsurou helps him out of bed, slinging an arm around Kei's shoulders to help stabilize him as a dizzy spell passes.

Keiji greets them at the bedroom door and Tetsurou lets go, letting Keiji say his hellos. He watches in complete adoration as Keiji felt Kei’s forehead and peppered his face, first above his eyebrow, then cheeks, nose, and finally, lips, hooking a finger under Kei’s chin, with little kisses.

“Feeling okay?”

“Better than earlier.”

“All thanks to me of course,” Tetsurou bragged. Kei scoffed but said nothing.

Not long after the three of them got settled at the table and started to eat, they heard the tell-tale sound of heavy feet, thudding, down the hallway and then the front door being pushed open. Koutarou appeared, face bright. He dumped his volleyball bag by the door and made a beeline for Kei.

“Tsukki!” he called, mushing his lips into Kei’s with far too much force. The blonde didn’t say a single word of protest, though, pressing a hand to the nape of Kou’s neck and kissing back. “I missed you today…no fair that Tetsu got you all to himself!”

“You had a game,” Kei reminded him, sensibly and breathless from his congestion and Koutarou’s dizzying smooch (he tended to have that effect on his boyfriends, attacking them with energetic kisses when they least expected it).

“Yeah, yeah,” Koutarou waved him off, turning to Keiji. He kissed Keiji less enthusiastically and more passionately, the way they all knew Keiji liked best.

Breaking apart, Keiji patted Koutarou’s cheek, leaving the elder to beam.

“My turn?” Tetsurou cooed, elbows propping up his chin, a cheeky grin painted on his lips. Their kisses were playful, Tetsurou nipping the bottom of Koutarou’s lip and adding more tongue. He tasted like gatorade and Pocari Sweat drinks.

Finally, after greetings were complete, he slid into the chair between Kei and Keiji, licking his lips, hungrily.

Kei watched the scene playing out in front of him, the three people he loved most. Kept closest. Fondness blanketed his gaze as Koutarou talked about his game, waving his hands around. Keiji, chastising Koutarou, but smiling and listening intently. And Tetsurou, who hooked his finger around Kei’s, underneath the table, bantered back and forth with the lively ace.

They’d always take care of Kei, baby him even when the blonde didn’t need it, and Kei wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope u liked it!
> 
> come scream at me on tumblr @tetskuroo


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